“Networking. Relationships. Favors. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.”
“Is that how I got the part in the movie?”
“No,” he said sharply. “I had nothing to do with the movie. Though I think Anne had been in touch with Devier. But you earned the part. Those five auditions weren’t fake.”
“Then what? What were you deciding about my extraordinary ...” A white fluffy cloud drifted past the sun and shaded the yacht. “Xander, you manipulated the Most Beautiful Woman title. Oh my gosh, how is that even possible?”
“I didn’t manipulate. But they called—”
“Who called?”
“People, Harlow. The ones deciding. Influencing.”
“The ones deciding?”
“How do you not know this?” He sighed. “Yes, there’s a final consensus. People talk. Your name was in the top five, and a few influential people called, asked if I’d like to get you to number one.”
“You bribed them?”
“Not a bribe exactly, but I contributed to a couple of things. Maybe helped with some jobs.”
“You bought me the title? I really wasn’t the most beautiful. I had to be helped to the top?” She was a fraud. Everything about her was orchestrated by someone else. “I thought I’d earned that one. On my own. A reward for all the magazine covers, the runway shows, the early days of go-sees, and going from one photo shoot to another. For the hours I spent strutting in front of mirrors, practicing my expressions, starving myself half to death so I could do the job well. But I didn’t earn that title. Your money bought it.”
“I’m not denying your hard work, but being named the most beautiful is, well, subjective. Sometimes the decision makers need a little shove.”
“Then the title is yours, not mine.”
“Darling, come on. Be reasonable. You did earn it. I just nudged. Geez, I’m sorry I opened my mouth.”
“It’s a condition men get when I’m around. They say things they don’t mean. But you know what I think? You’ve been dying to tell me the truth. That somehow it makes me beholden to you.”
“You’re not so naïve as to think the world is fair. We were—we are—the Billionaire and the Beauty. I merely added the exclamation point. And why would I want you beholden to me? That’s ridiculous.” Xander sipped his drink. “There were a lot of beautiful women in the running that year, Harlow.”
“Well, then, why don’t you marry one of them?”
She walked to the edge of the yacht, secured her keys in her hand, and jumped. Falling, falling, falling, and she had never felt so free.
TUESDAY
JUNE 1944
“I can’t shake it, Harriet. The fear.” Tuesday finished her iced tea and set it on Harriet’s counter. “I lost LJ. Who’s next? Dup? Lee?” Tuesday slipped on her gloves. She always felt like dressing up a bit when Harriet invited her over. She was a lady’s lady. “What do you hear from Abel?”
“Same as you. He’s on the USSMasonnow. He doesn’t say much other than the chow ain’t nothing to write home about.” Harriet laughed. “Then he goes on for another page about breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He got to see Morris when they docked last month. Didn’t I tell you? They went out on the town. Morris said Twain was right: ‘The coldest winter I ever spent was a summerin San Francisco.’ He says California is fine, but loading bombs on ships is hard work. He’s made a good friend, though. A Jimmy Fausnaugh from Columbus, Ohio. Says we’re going to visit them when the war is over.”
“I suppose that will be the case for a lot of us when it’s all said and done. Now, why don’t you come to me for dinner? I’ve not cooked for you in ages. I’m not working the Starlight tomorrow night.”
“My dear friend, I love you like a sister but you’re an average cook at best, and in your hot kitchen, I’d roast right along with the meat. Stick a fork in me, I’m done. No, you come here, where everything is electric.” Harriet laughed and walked her to the door. “Surely you can buy a new stove by now.”
The Nickle place at 321 Sea Blue Way was bright and airy, even cool on a June day with all the windows open and the ceiling fans turning.
“You’re right. But I’ve gotten a bit sentimental about the old thing. I love the smell of the wood in that potbelly, and nothing beats the way it cooks the food. And I can heat up a can of beans with the best of them, Harriet Nickle, so mind yourself.”
Harriet pulled Tuesday into a hug. “Our men will come home. I’ve been talking to Immanuel, asking Him to look over them.”
“He can’t do anything less.”
They set a time for dinner tomorrow, and Tuesday walked home. She wanted to change into slacks before heading to the rink. So many women wore them these days.
